The Girl Who Hurt My Brother
by Juliejuly
Summary: Pre-series. What is family, really? Is it the most important thing in the world? Are you supposed to sacrifice everything for it? For Sam and Dean, the answer to that question is clear.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Me again. ;) I love Supernatural and I enjoyed writing this a great deal. This fanfic isn't very heavy on the storyline. It much more explores the bond between two brothers who have lived together for their whole lives. It takes place when Sam is eleven and Dean is fifteen. Thanks for reading! :D**

 **Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine.**

 **Oh, also, this story will have three chapters. They will be up till the end of the week.**

* * *

This one was a good one. She was blond and she was skinny. Beautiful in her own way, but just flawed enough to be gently insecure. Insecure enough to blush at every compliment Dean whispered into her ear. Her cheeks hot. Her lips soft and full against his skin.

He grinned down on her, her blue eyes the sparkling shade of melted iron. There was a single lamp burning in the room and she'd long ago offered to turn it off, but he hadn't let her. That was exactly why. He wanted to see her twinkling eyes, how they stared into his, how they shared thoughts and words and feelings.

She was intelligent. He knew that. He hadn't spent _a lot of_ time with her, not as much as he wanted to, but that he did know. She was the kind of person who knew a great deal of things, so many in fact that she didn't have to brag about it anymore. She stayed silent, and her silence conveyed her wisdom.

Dean leaned closer. He pressed his lips against hers, gently at first but quickly intensifying the light touch. He knew what he was doing, of course. But he also didn't. Not exactly. This one was special. He actually _liked_ her. He'd spent two weeks just talking to her before trying anything beyond the limits that separated acquaintances from … well, _more._

He'd spent _six_ weeks doing _more_ with her before he'd finally invited her over at a time carefully predicted to see their motel room empty and forsaken. John was on a hunt. Sammy was at soccer practice.

Sammy.

Dean sighed. He pushed himself off the bed and looked at Nelly regretfully.

»I'm sorry,« he said, his voice raspy. »I wish we could do this longer.«

She smiled shyly. She was so adorably unsure that Dean had to catch his breath. She was perfect. Innocent. _Good_ and _beautiful_ in every meaning of the word. »Me, too,« she admitted.

He grinned at her cheekily. »We can always repeat it, you know. Just say the word.«

»We will,« she agreed with such determination that it was hard to argue. Fortunately, Dean didn't want to in the least.

»Where's this brother of yours at, anyway?«

»Oh, it's just around the corner.« Dean put on a fresh T-shirt, then looked around the room, unsure of where his right sock had landed. Was it possible it had somehow got behind his shelf?

»And he can't walk home alone?« Nelly was regarding him with risen eyebrows, sitting in the middle of the bed as if she had all the time in the world.

Dean smiled sourly. »It's dangerous.«

»It's _a few blocks._ «

»And if something happens to him? I could never …«

She sighed, resigned. »Yeah, yeah. I get it. I have a sister, too. It's just … I don't want it to be over yet.«

Dean jumped to his feet, giving up on the idea of finding his sock, and crawled to the bed. He leaned in close to her ear. »It's not over. We're just taking a little break, is all.«

She blushed. Her cheeks were fair and smooth and warm.

»I wanna come with you.«

Dean pursed his lips. »I don't know –«

»Please, let me come with you. We'll only be seeing each other tomorrow.«

»Fine. But hurry. We _really_ need to go.«

* * *

Sam had already been waiting when they arrived, sweaty and hot and out of breath. The eleven-year-old looked at Nelly sceptically, then turned pointedly to his older brother. »And who is this?«

»Oh, come on, Sassy-Pants. Show a little respect for your brother's friend, will you?«

Sam rolled his eyes. »I'm not _sassy._ «

»Of course not.«

»Jerk.«

»Bitch.«

» _Dean,_ « Nelly cut in.

»What?«

»You can't call your brother 'bitch'!«

»It wasn't meant like that …« Dean tried to clarify, but Sam stepped up, his imposing figure immediately building a wall between his brother and the girl. Admittedly, a pretty low wall, but it was a low wall made of determination and relentlessness. Nothing was getting through it.

»Why not?« he asked, and Nelly frowned at him, unsure of what exactly to say. She looked at Dean pleadingly and he rolled his eyes, dropping an appeasing hand on Sam's shoulder.

»Sam, cut it. It's okay.«

»No, Dean, I wanna know what right a girl has to tell you what you can and can't do.«

» _Sam –«_

Nelly cleared her throat and crouched a bit to be able to look Sam in the yes. She didn't have to lower her face much, though. Since when was Sam so big? Had he grown, again? Was he going to overgrow his own brother?

Nelly tried to smile reassuringly and Dean closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. This was going to go South.

»Older siblings shouldn't call younger siblings bad names. It's not nice,« she said in a voice a mother would probably use on her child. Dean groaned on the inside. He felt Sam tense under his hand and he felt his pulse quicken. He knew his brother's heartbeat better than his own; at the moment, it was only slightly elevated, but that still meant that Sammy had to be pretty pissed. The eleven-year-old wasn't someone to get worked up easily.

»Do you want to know something?« Sam's voice was chillingly low, cool and collected. He fixed the girl with a glare Dean had learned to evade in the past. That right there was the look that promised trouble.

»Sure.«

»Do you know who raised me? Huh? Do you know who sleeps with me every night and who gets up when I have nightmares and who gets food into me every morning and every evening? Do you know who's always there for me?«

Nelly blinked. »Your parents?«

Sam chuckled humourlessly. He looked back at Dean, who shrugged.

»I guess he hasn't told you much about us,« Sam concluded. »Doesn't matter. Our mom's dead. Our dad –«

» _Sam._ «

»What, Dean, _what_? We have to tell her. Or she'll keep telling you what to do. Our dad isn't around much. It's mostly me and my brother. _My brother_ who had raised me. Do you get that? So he can do to me whatever he wants. He can say to me whatever he wants. Okay? He's made me all that I am. So don't you ever, _ever_ try to protect _me_ from _him._ It's more than unnecessary and uncalled for, and it makes him feel like a bad brother and it makes me feel pissed.«

He said it all matter-of-factly, without as much as a twitch of the brow, but someone like Dean, someone who'd known him for all his life, could see the raw emotion bubbling underneath the surface. It wasn't hard to spot once you knew where to look. Sammy was an open book, really, or more like an open bottle; letting all his emotions explode into the air whenever they boiled over.

But Nelly didn't seem to notice what was so obvious; that Sam was protecting his brother because that was all they both knew how to do; that Sam had understood immediately what the simple comment had caused with Dean and that the boy had stepped up to show his older brother he still believed in him; that Sam was the best little brother anyone could wish for, a little brother who would never betray him for anything or anyone.

Maybe Sam was only an open bottle to Dean. Maybe they were living in in their own little bubble, the world spinning around them in varying rhythms, none of them their own. Maybe that was what family was all about.

Dean looked at Nelly and saw that her beautiful, beautiful blue eyes were misty. He hadn't wanted for this to happen. But Sam wasn't just any kid she could play around with. And if it came down to it, he knew who he would choose in the end. He'd known that the second his father had placed the baby in his arms and screamed at him to _freaking leave the burning house!_ This was what he did. This was who he lived for.

»Nelly,« he said weakly, but the girl had already turned around. She ran a quick hand down her face. »Nelly, he's not mad at you –«

»Yes, I am, Dean.«

Dean groaned. »Well, he _is_ mad at you, but it has nothing to do with you. He's like that with everyone.«

Nelly's shoulders tensed. »You're … complicated,« she breathed. She turned around, her cheeks mat from the dried tears. She tried to smile. »I'm sorry.«

And off she went.

Dean sighed and held his brother by the shoulders as they watched her go. He wasn't mad, not really, but he was a little disappointed. Nelly had been a good girl. But good enough to want him back after this? Well …

»Thanks, Sam.«

»No problem, man.«

»That was sarcasm, if you haven't guessed.«

»Wow, I'm surprised you even know what the word means.«

»I do and I'm trying to tell you that this wasn't cool.«

Sam smiled cheekily, craning his neck to look up at his brother. »Oh, so you're saying I wasn't supposed to get rid of her? You should have mentioned that before, man. The last one you invited over I had to scare away so that you wouldn't have to dump her, remember?«

»Come on, Sam. I'm serious.«

»So am I, Dean,« Sam said, still looking into his brother's eyes. His gaze was different now; softer and warmer. He wasn't angry anymore. »I won't let people hurt you, not even if you think it's what you want.«

Dean chuckled. »She wasn't hurting me.«

»She was. I know you. And that's all there is to say.« He paused for a few seconds. »Can we go now? I'm starving and it's kind of freezing.«

»Sure. But you're doing the dishes tonight.«

»Hey! Why?«

Dean grinned. »Oh, well, I remember a wise man once saying that I can _do_ and _say_ whatever I want to you. And right now I'm saying you're doing the dishes.«

Sam huffed. »Jerk.«

»Love you, too, bitch.«


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading! :)**

* * *

„She's staying with us, Sam, and that's the end of it."

Sam huffed. „I thought we'd talked about this."

„We have. And I've decided that she can stay."

„Can't she sleep somewhere else?"

Dean heaved a big sigh. They had been over this so many times already he'd stopped counting. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his patience, and the calm he had tried to maintain was quickly waning into nothingness.

„Her family is out of town for the weekend. I've _told_ you. And it's only _one_ night, Sam, I don't get what the problem is."

„I _don't want_ her here!" Sam exploded.

„Well, too bad. You can't do anything about it."

„I could always call dad."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Sam, deliberately slow in his threatening movements, and fixed his little brother with a stare.

„You did _not_ just say that," he whispered, his throat raw and scratchy. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, his lips pursed. „You did not just threaten me with _Dad._ "

„Are you scared of him?"

„ _No,_ Sam, and that's not the problem. Dad isn't some _thing_ you can use to your advantage. He's … he's _Dad._ He's _family_."

Sam grunted. „Then why is he never around? Huh? Why can't we be …"

His voice petered out and his mouth shut closed, but they both knew what had been about to be said. It hung heavily in the quiet, stifling air between them, a single word, two syllables, yet strong and powerful and cruel.

 _Normal._

Dean looked at his hands, kneaded his fingers. „I'm _trying,_ Sammy, I am. But I can't give you –"

„It's not your fault."

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. „Whose is it, then? And don't you dare say Dad, because he's doing everything he can."

Sam shrugged. „What if it's not enough?"

„It has to be."

„But it isn't for me."

Dean heaved a deep, shaking breath. He looked at his watch, ever cautious not to meet his brother's demanding glare. „She's gonna be here any minute. I better get ready."

The conversation was over, and Sam had no choice but to relent. He dropped his head in a quick nod and vanished into the other room, purposefully ignoring the fact that Nelly wasn't arriving for more than two hours.

* * *

The girl was on time. They had dinner together. The atmosphere was tense, their demeanour moody. Sam only ate half his plate and started cleaning the dishes without a word. Dean's eyes hardly ever left his brother's form, his stare concerned and gloomy.

Nelly simply felt out of place.

„So, you live in this motel, or …" she started a wary conversation, bursting the bubble of carefully weaved quiet and respect. Sam flinched, a cup slipping through his fingers and landing loudly in the sink. Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes.

„We're just staying here till Dad finds a better place."

Sam snorted. „You know _that's_ never going to happen."

„What is he talking about?" Nelly asked, turning to the older Winchester. Her eyes were big and round.

„Well," Dean tried to explain. „We move around a lot. Makes finding a house to live in pretty hard."

„What do you mean by _a lot_?"

„He means that our dad drags us around the world because of his stupid work, not giving a rat's ass about what we think about it," Sam muttered, placing a clean plate on the side of the sink and fishing in the murky water for the next one. When he found that there were none left, he pulled the plug and the sink started emptying with loud gurgling noises.

„Sam, that's enough," Dean protested, but no one gave him much attention.

„Where is he now?" Nelly wondered. „Your dad?"

Sam sat back down at the table, frowning. „Where do you think? He's at work. As _always._ "

„I said it's _enough,_ Sam."

„Why, Dean? Why can't we say the truth for once? Our lives aren't as perfect as you want them to be. Dad is even less so. Get that through your thick skull. Dad is a mean drunk who can't face his sons because he can't face his wife's death, and therefore buries himself in tons and tons of work."

„ _Sam!_ " Dean jumped up with such vigour that his stool almost crashed to the ground. His eyes burned with fury. He pointed a tense arm in the direction of their bedrooms and ground out two simple words.

„Bed. NOW."

Sam wasn't scared. He wasn't scared of his brother, because he knew that Dean would _never_ do anything to him, no matter how mad he was or how much he disagreed. But he _did_ feel an overwhelming wave of sadness and guilt. Was this it? Was it over?

„ _Sam. Go."_

He let his head hang and did as he had been told. But he couldn't sleep.

* * *

Nelly asked to turn in not long after Sam had been rudely silenced, claiming that it had been a long day and that she was tired. But Dean knew better. He could see the sadness in her eyes, the sudden distrust that hadn't been there before.

„Look, I had to put him in his place," Dean told her, desperate to get the uncertainty off her face. She shook her head and looked away.

„You shouldn't have been that rough."

„Kids need rough sometimes. They have to be punished when they do something wrong. It's how it works."

„But you're _not_ his parent, Dean," she objected.

„Someone has to be."

She sighed. „Well, I want to go to bed. Where can I sleep?"

Dean, of course, offered her his bed and declared he would take the couch. She was reluctant at first, but gave in quickly enough when she recognized the determination both Winchesters possessed. There was nothing you could make them do if they didn't want to.

They said good night, and vanished in two different rooms.

* * *

Nelly was awoken in the middle of the night by a subtle shrieking. She needed a few moments to remember where she was, but once she did, she quickly concluded that Sam had to be shifting on his bed. She was about to brush the whole thing off and fall asleep again when she noticed that the little boy was getting up and tiptoeing out of the room, careful not to make any unnecessary sound.

She got curious. Her feet were cold as they landed on the tiled floor, but she pushed the feeling away and crept to the door.

She looked out of the bedroom and into the living room. It was dark and cold. All she could hear were deep and steady breaths – probably Dean's. Sam's little feet didn't make so much as a rustle.

„Dean?" his small and quiet voice echoed through the room.

That was all it took for the comfortably sleeping shadow on the couch to shoot up. Nelly couldn't make out much, but she knew that Dean was looking around suspiciously, just like he always did when awoken from sleep. Only once any threats had been ruled out did his breaths calm and his strained shoulders relax.

„Sammy. What is it?"

Sam sniffled. „Can we talk?"

„Sure, buddy, come here." Something clicked and the living room lit up in a yellow glow. Sam's dishevelled figure was standing in front of the couch, looking cautiously down at his brother. Nelly wanted to back away so that she wouldn't be seen sneaking about and eavesdropping, but she quickly found it pointless. The two Winchesters only had eyes for each other.

„Well, come on," Dean urged again and Sam didn't need more encouragement than that. He crawled onto the couch and leaned into his brother, two arms coming around to wrap themselves protectively around his figure.

It looked as if they had done this countless times before. It looked as if it was their second nature.

„I'm sorry, Dean," Sam muttered, his voice muffled by his brother's body. „I'm sorry for saying what I did."

„I know," was the simple answer. Nelly started getting irritated. Dean could be a real ass. Wasn't he at least going to apologize, too?

„And then I woke up and I wanted to talk to you and I listened, but you weren't there, Dean. _She_ was. Why is she sleeping in your bed?"

„It's the polite thing to do, Sammy. You always put the lady first. It's the one single job of a gentleman."

The younger brother was quiet for a few seconds. His brain seemed to be working a hundred miles per hour.

„What is it, Sammy?"

„Nothing."

„Oh, come on. I know something's bothering you. Might as well get it out."

Sam sighed. „You don't do it just with _the ladies._ "

„Huh?"

„You know. You don't just put the ladies first. You put _everyone_ first. Right?"

„Geez, Sammy, no need to get melodramatic."

„But it's true."

Dean snorted. „Well, if by _everyone_ you mean you, then probably yeah. I put you first. It's what big brothers do, isn't it?"

Sam shook his head. „No. It's what parents do."

„Are you suggesting that I'm you father? Cause I'm not that old, dude."

Sam sighed. Leave it to Dean to ruin the moment. He had to get this over with fast. He gulped, then dropped his voice even further. „Do you like her?"

„Who, Nelly?"

„Yeah."

„I think she's great," Dean revealed. „But if you really don't want –"

„Nah, look, if you say she's great, I believe you."

„Thanks, Sammy."

„You're welcome. Though I'm only doing this under protest." His voice was cheeky, but Dean took the words to heart. He adjusted his pose.

„Why do you dislike her so much?"

„I don't _dislike_ her. I just don't think she gets you."

„What exactly doesn't she get?"

Sam threw Dean a look that was clearly saying _Isn't it obvious?_ „You know. She thinks you treat me badly. She thinks you're mean to me."

„I am sometimes."

„Yeah, but so am I. And you're also the only one who's _anything_ to me. And I hate how _Nelly_ disregards that."

Dean tightened his grip, letting a small smile settle on his face. „You know what? You're too smart for your own good. And also, you're the best little brother in the world."

„I know."

Dean chuckled. „We should get some sleep."

„I wanna stay here."

„Suit yourself."

And the light went off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who read this little work. It was fun to write. Thanks for the follows and the reviews. This is the last chapter.**

* * *

„Hey." Nelly turned around to see a very excited Dean approaching her through the crowd of people. „What are you doing here?"

Nelly smiled shyly. "My sister is in the play. Penny."

"Really? Sammy, too. No way! They're in the same class?"

Nelly shrugged. "Looks like it."

"So who's she playing?"

"Juliet." Nelly smiled proudly. Dean looked at her with huge eyes.

"Okay. Dude. That's creepy."

"Why?"

"Sam's Romeo."

Nelly didn't know what to say to that and obviously neither did Dean. They stood around awkwardly, looking everywhere but in the other's eyes, until the boy cleared his throat and scratched his head. "You wanna sit together?"

"Oh. Sorry, I'm here with my parents. They dragged me along. I wanted to study, but they said I wouldn't be allowed to go to the party on Friday if I didn't watch the play, so in the end, I had to come." She sipped at her juice. "You going? To the party?"

Dean shook his head and looked down. "Sammy needs someone to look after him. Plus, Friday is our movie night. Can't miss that."

"You spend all your time with your brother, don't you?"

"Well, not _all_ my time."

"It's okay. I get it." But she didn't. She really didn't. While she reckoned she loved Penny the way family was supposed to love family, the eleven-year-old girl tended to get on her nerves. Of course, their parents asked Nelly to look after her younger sister every once I a while, but watching her _all the time,_ being responsible for her day after day without an end on the horizon – that was a concept she simply couldn't imagine.

The principal climbed onto the stage and gripped the only mike into her plump hands. Chatter started quieting down. The lights dimmed. Nelly threw Dean a last look and he nodded curtly.

"I guess I'll see you after."

 _Romeo and Juliet_ began.

* * *

The applause was loud and booming. Nelly couldn't keep herself from looking over at Dean. But her stare wasn't returned. The boy was on his feet, clapping with enthusiasm exceeding that of every person in the room. He put his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Yeah, Sammy!" Nelly turned to the stage, sure that she would see the little Winchester frown, but he was glowing and staring at his brother, proudly wearing his stupid costume and standing high, higher than any of the other children even though he was by far not the tallest one.

She examined the stage in search of someone else. Something in her chest twisted. Her sister was there, of course, but she was overshadowed, dim. She was smiling, her white teeth glinting in the misty light, but she wasn't _blazing_ bright, she wasn't the happiest person alive.

Was she, Nelly, doing something wrong? Was she a bad sister? Was she supposed to be more like Dean?

The kids bowed one last time and then went backstage one by one. Nelly had been planning on going home as soon as possible, but now she felt bad about that idea. She decided to go and see how Penny was doing after her big show, so she crept away from the commotion and toward the backstage room.

The corridor was oddly quiet – a spooky contrast to what was going on in the hall. And someone was already there.

Of course, it was Dean.

Naturally.

How could she have expected anyone else?

He turned around, startled by her steps, and smiled.

"How did you like it?" he asked.

She didn't know. Frankly, she'd slept through half of the thing, and she would have told anyone that much, because listening to children's plays wasn't commonly described as _cool_ and finding one boring was exactly what people would normally expect of her. But Dean wasn't normal. She wasn't about to tell him that she was too good to pay attention to a stupid show her sister had been part of. In Dean's thrilled presence, it made her feel silly and childish.

So she only said, "It was nice."

Dean nodded his agreement and turned to the door. "Well, shall we?"

They stepped into the small room. Warm yellow light and the scent of sweat greeted them, but while Nelly needed a few seconds to look around and adjust, Dean had already found his brother and stormed in his direction. Sammy was seated on a stool, brushing something that looked like eye shadow off his little face, but he quickly threw the towel away and jumped at the older Winchester. His toothy grin floated in the air over Dean's shoulder and Nelly swore that everyone halted in their task only to look at the pair.

"Hey, Sammy, how're you feeling?" Dean asked, rubbing a hand over the dark, dark hair and ruffling it up even more.

"Did you see me, Dean? Did you see me?"

"Of course, Champ. I was there, remember?"

"Yeah, but I was _good._ Did you see how good I was?"

"You were the best," Dean retorted and it was with such conviction that it seemed he actually believed it. Sammy glowed, if possible, even brighter.

Nelly looked around, a heavy feeling in her belly, a question nagging at her. She found Penny at the back of the room and smiled. No, she wasn't a bad sister. Yes, she fought with Penny every once in a while, but that was normal when it came to family. Wasn't it? Plus, Sam and Dean fought sometimes, too. Yes, she had had doubts about the relationship to her younger sibling in the past, but everyone had those, didn't they?

No, she wasn't going to let a perfect family ruin hers.

She slipped through the room, pointedly ignoring the centre of attention – two certain brothers still hugging in the middle of the place – and stalked purposefully toward the back. She stopped in front of Penny and smiled down on her.

"Hey, girl. You were great."

Penny snorted. "Yeah right," she said. "What did Mom and Dad promise you for this?"

Nelly frowned. "Nothing. Can't I just give you a compliment?"

Her sister only rolled her eyes. Nelly's frown deepened. She hadn't thought about it before, but the careless banter and the continuous contact between the two Winchesters was something she had never experienced herself. Conversations in her family were normally short and gruff, often accompanied by one or more participants of the talk looking down on cell phones, computers or other various screens. As for touching – well, she was way too old to let her parents near her, and she couldn't remember the last time she had placed a hand anywhere on her sister's form. Not even fleetingly. Not once in the last month, at least.

She crouched down and smiled. "You want a hug?"

"Do you think I'm _stupid_? I don't want you getting rich by pretending to be nice to me."

"I'm not pretending. Mom and Dad didn't …"

"Stop lying!" Penny yelled. She pointed at something behind Nelly's back and the older girl turned around gloomily, already knowing what she would find. Her little sister leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"See that? That's _not_ pretending. Sammy's brother is actually _proud_ of him. See? Without having to be told. You think I don't know what this is all about? I'm not _two."_

Nelly looked at the ground. Was it that obvious?

"I have Mom and Dad. I don't _need_ you!" The eleven-year-old girl screamed that part out for everyone to her, then stalked off and out of the room. The children stared in shock. Nelly buried her face in her hands. Her cheeks were hot, but she refused to make them wet. She got up without lowering her arms and stormed off, down the corridor and out of the building. The cold air was soothing on her heated skin.

She wasn't alone for long. Someone came out behind her. She knew who the newcomer was. It was _always_ him. She could smell his aftershave, could hear his steps, big and heavy, and another set, smaller and lighter, but not much. They had both come after her. How fitting.

"Nelly –"

"What do you want?"

"Hey," Dean started, "I'm sure she didn't mean it that way."

Nelly spun around to him, chuckling. "And how can you possibly be sure of that?"

He shrugged. Nelly's gaze stopped on his hand that was safely holding Sammy's. They were in physical contact. Again. They seemed unable to live without it.

"Kids are like that sometimes."

She huffed. He'd seen too much of her feelings already; she could let the rest out too, she decided. It couldn't really hurt at this point.

"You say _kids_ as if you mean all of them, but you don't seem to include Sam in that."

"Oh, believe me, Sam has gone through phases of hating me, too. Still has them. It's best to just wait them out."

Sam arched his eyebrows, but he didn't say a word. He just tried to look at her comfortingly.

That was too much. How the hell had Dean, a brother, a _boy_ not much older than herself, done such a spectacular job of raising this kid? _Raising_ him. Giving him the identity he had. Spending every freaking second of free time on him. How was that _possible_?

"You don't get to say stuff like that!" Nelly exploded. "You have like the greatest little brother in the world!"

Dean stepped closer, tried to calm her. "Look, Nelly –"

"Don't touch me! I'm a mess and … and … Fine. I'll tell you. Here and now. Look, I like you. I _liked_ you. I really did. But you have Sam and he's important."

The older Winchester frowned, unsure of where the conversation was headed. "Well, so is your sister."

Nelly shook her head and sniffled. "No. I mean yes. Not the point. Your brother is the most important thing for you. You know? He's the centre of your being."

"So?"

"He'll always come first," she stated, quiet and teary, broken. She looked into his eyes, her own huge and round. He stared back, unable to deny her words. Because it was true. It was so damn _true._

"I don't have that, you know?" she whispered, hardly even audible anymore. "When do _I_ come first?"

He tried it one last time. He tried taking her hand, but she shied away and shook her head.

"No, Dean. No. It's over. Leave me alone."

And she went inside.

Sam looked up at his brother, sure he would find him smirking. But he didn't. Instead, Dean was staring unseeingly at the ground.

One tear rolled out of his right eye. And another.

That was it. Two tears. Dean wiped them away and smiled down at Sammy, his face carefully composed. It looked as always, but for Sam it didn't. "Let's go home, shall we?"

"But –"

"Don't, Sammy."

"But it was because of _me._ "

"Everything I do is because of you, Genius. Get that through your thick skull already."

"But Dean –"

"Sammy, it's okay. A girl broke up with me. It happens. I'll be fine."

"I didn't want for this to happen."

"I know. Now let's go home."

Sam nodded. Home seemed pretty inviting. Home with Dean. A few pillows, a soft sofa, a movie. Maybe popcorn if they had any left. And Dean, lying by his side, big and strong and warm.

That was all he needed. And for a short moment he was sure that that was all Dean needed too.


End file.
